Fix Yourself
by Air Guitar Pixie
Summary: It's 2010, and it's been more than two years since Dean went to Hell. So when a demon appears claiming to be his dead brother- turned into hellspawn- does Sam even have a choice?
1. Chapter 1

A/N:_ This story is for a prompt given to me by the lovely NikkieSheepie. Because the prompt contains spoilers, I won't be telling you it. So...you'll just have to read it. I'm really looking forward to writing this; I have it all planned out already. T for language and possibly violence and blood in later chapters. Enjoy!_

_-Jaq_

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><p>July 2nd, 2010<p>

Stopping at a bar on the way home, Sam celebrated another job well done. Well, 'celebrated' might be a bit of an exaggeration. 'Had a beer and grimly reflected for the thousandth time that his brother was in Hell and thus couldn't drink with him' might be more appropriate.

Sam never really enjoyed going to bars when Dean was around. He always ended up frowning in the corner, wishing to be somewhere else. And when he got hit on by scantily-dressed, slightly inebriated women? Sam just wanted to disappear.

But ever since Dean had...gone, Sam found a sort of solace in the places his brother had loved so much. Maybe they reminded him of Dean- lots of swearing, activity, fast food, alcohol, hot people...it was like stepping into a time when the Winchester brothers were just that- brothers. Now, one was dead and the other had barely moved on.

Sam was jarred out of his own personal memory hell when he noticed someone staring at him. Not the 'I want to come home with you tonight' stare, more like...'don't cross me.'

Which, of course, set off warning bells right away. Sam paid for his beer and left quickly, taking one of the darker alleys on the way home.

It wasn't long before he realized that the man from the bar was tailing him. Sam walked faster, reaching inside his jacket and patting his gun, still loaded with silver bullets from the shapeshifter job he'd just finished. Still, silver bullets could hurt a lot of things.

The man still hadn't made a move by the time Sam gets to the motel, but Sam figured that whatever it was didn't spend all that time trailing him for nothing. Once inside his room, he quickly painted a devil's trap under the rug, flopping on the bed and opening his laptop.

Sam was pretty sure it's a demon. He got mainly demons these days. There were so many more of them now. He wondered if somebody broke another Hell gate somewhere, but it didn't really matter.

After about an hour, Sam closed the laptop, turned off the light, and waited, the demon-killing knife clenched in his hand under his pillow.

Sure enough, three AM, the doorknob began to jiggle a little. Then, it turned on its own, the lock snicking open by some supernatural force.

The man from the bar stepped in, quieter than a cat. Sam breathed deeply and evenly.

When the man entered the trap, Sam threw off the façade, turning on the light and holding up the knife.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The man looked at his feet and sighed. "Devil's trap? Really, Sammy? C'mon, I just wanted to talk."

Sam didn't lower the knife. "You could have talked to me at the bar."

"Right. Because ordinary people talk about demons and monsters in the middle of a bar. I don't think so."

"You aren't a person," Sam said with surety. He stepped closer.

"Damn straight." The man grins and blinked, his eyes blackening. Then, he stopped smiling. "But I used to be."

"Cut the crap, I've heard it already," Sam snapped. "Demon by the name of Ruby. She told me she could get my brother out of hell, that she remembered being human, that she could be trusted. Guess what? All lies. I killed her almost a year ago. Friends don't turn you into addicts." His tone was scathing.

"Why are you telling me this?" the demon asked, sounding amused.

Sam smiled this time, grim and cold. "Because by the time you get around to tell anyone anything, you'll be too dead to talk."

The demon backed up, putting its hands up as if in surrender. It stopped at the edge of the trap and swallowed. "No need to get violent, okay? Put the knife down. I'm not going anywhere."

Sam didn't put the knife down, but he didn't step forward to kill the demon, either.

"Alright. So, uh, you aren't putting the knife down. That's cool. Okay. You aren't gonna take this well-"

"Take what well?"

"Shut up and let me finish!" the demon snapped, raising its voice. Calming down, it looked at Sam steadily. "Heya, Sammy. Guess who?"

"Call me Sammy again and I will not hesitate to kill you."

"Aw, come on. After all, wasn't I the only one allowed to call you that?"

Sam lunged, the knife pressing into the demon's throat. "You son of a bitch," he snarled. "Pretending to be...him."

"Oh, I am him. Back in black, I might add," the demon snarled right back.

"No, you aren't. Dean is- was-"

"Was what? News flash, Sammy. I went to Hell. And you know what happens to people who go to Hell? We become demons."

"Dean wouldn't."

"Oh yeah?" The demon grabbed Sam's arm, twisting the knife away from himself and using the momentum to slam Sam to the ground. Leaning over the taller man, he picked up the knife. Tucking it into his pocket, he stooped to a kneel.

"I tought you that move when you were ten," the demon whispered into Sam's ear. "And you never were as good at it as me." With a swift kick to the head, he rendered Sam unconscious.

Taking the knife out, the demon used it to carefully scratch out a part of the devil's trap. By the time he finished, Sam was coming back around.

"I could kill you now," the demon said. "But I'm going to let you sleep on the idea that maybe your dear old brother is back."

He threw the knife with certainty and precision, not even glancing to know that it had hit its mark, landing within an inch of the Winchester's head. "Keep your knife. You might need it."

Sam tried to do something, anything, but the man threw back his head and a column of black smoke shot through the open window, into the night.

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><p>AN_: Well? Is the demon really Dean? Or is it just trying to gain Sam's trust so that it can do something to further its own evil plans? Please review if you've enjoyed this- it helps me get through my homework so that I have time to write if people are reviewing. I have the next chapter written already, but I probably won't post it until the third one is written, so it could take a couple days. Thanks for giving this story a chance! And have a great night/day. _

_-Jaq_

_song of the day (and song from which the title came from) Centuries, by Fall Out Boy. Their new single. It's...so awesome. I can't even describe it. Just...heavy metal broke my heart. Go listen to it now. After you review and follow and favorite this story, of course_.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: _sorry for the long wait! All the feedback I got was awesome, as I'm excited for this next bit. thanks so much to Leandra Falconwing, VattaKeto, Sarah, LeeMarieJack, Kas3y, Dani, NikkieSheepie, and Jenna for your fabulous reviews! I love starting new stories so much eep. Alright, enjoy!_

_-Jaq_

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><p>The next day, Sam packed up and left both town and the demon behind him. He was shaken by the encounter. Very shaken. He had let a demon get the best of him. Hell, he'd almost died. If the demon had thrown the knife just two inches farther...<p>

Silently, Sam vowed never to waste so much time again. Kill first. Demons were evil. Kill them all, all the evil sons of bitches that had taken his brother. That was all he could do.

_Unless the demon was telling the truth..._

No. Don't even consider it. Don't even...

Sam's really grateful for the fact that there's nobody in the other lane, because when a strange man appears in the passenger seat, he instinctively swerved to the left.

"I took the liberty of de-warding the car," the man said smoothly, staring out into the distance with eyes the color of pitch.

Sam slammed on the breaks and reached a hand back to grab the knife. Before he can do so, however, an invisible force stopped him.

"Relax. No way a normal demon wouldn't have gotten this far. But I knew this car like the back of my hand once." An unidentifiable look flashed across the face.

"Stop pretending to be my brother," Sam growled through clenched teeth, straining against the supernatural hold to try and reach the knife.

"I am your brother!" the demon yelled, causing the radio to turn on and erupt into static. "I am Dean Winchester, and I'm a damn demon, and you better get used to it, Sammy!"

Sam boiled now, with hot rage. And even though the addict part of him had been dormant for almost a year, he could still still _smell_ the blood, even faintly. Closing his eyes, he willed the demon to come out. Maybe he still had the juice. Maybe.

The demon just laughed, a sharp, breathy sound that sent shivers down Sam's spine. "You can do that until your brain hehmorages, but it's not gonna make a lick of a difference. Face it. You don't have that kind of mojo, at least not anymore."

"Fine. Kill me, then, if that's what you've been after," Sam spat, pushing uselessly against the demon's hold.

"Why would I want to kill you?"

"You're a demon. Demons are evil," Sam grunted out, finally abandoning hope of reaching the knife.

The demon grabbed Sam's face, forcing him to look at it. "I could have killed you fifty different ways already, each more painful than the next. And I'm about to. But I'm not going to kill my own brother without his knowing who I am." The demon's grip tightened, and Sam felt his jaw strain under the superhuman strength.

"Uhhhhnnh," he managed, giving his best glare.

The demon smirked and released Sam's face. "Humans are so fragile. I keep forgetting that."

Rubbing his jaw, Sam looked up warily. "Tell me something only Dean would know. Tell me..." he thought. "What he gave me for my sixteenth birthday."

The demon shrugged flippantly. "That was over two centuries ago. How'm I supposed to remember something like that? Birthdays were never really a big occasion in our household. But...wasn't it a bottle of tequila? I stole it and then told you I'd been saving for a couple months...ha...yeah, that was it. Little Sammy, drinking the good stuff at sixteen. Do I pass the test?"

Sam's mouth tightened into a thin line. Dean had given him tequila. But Dean wasn't so...uncaring. Dean was kind, and he felt deeply, and he _wasn't a demon_.

"I'll take that as a yes. Now give me the keys. I haven't driven Baby in a couple centuries, and I think it's long overdue." With a menacing do-as-I-say-or-you'll-regret-it glare, the demon held out his hand expectantly.

Sam's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Dammit," growled the demon, and yanked the keys from Sam, at the same time catapulting the man into the back. Before he could snatch up the knife, however, the demon grabbed it and thrust it into its jacket. "You can climb up to the passenger seat if you want," it said carelessly. "But I get to pick the music."

Sam stayed in the back, sitting rigidly and listening to the music that suddenly turned on- Metallica's Ride the Lightning album. His fists clenched, and he wrestled with the idea that- maybe- this really was Dean. Maybe. It felt like betrayal somehow, too, though, because a demon was everything that Dean wasn't- Dean _cared, _so much. And Dean just...wasn't evil.

Sam had never met a demon that wasn't evil. He'd thought for a few months (well, maybe more than that) that Ruby...but his face darkened and he refused to finish that thought.

Dean- the _demon_, Sam corrected himself- looked into the rear view mirror in tone to see Sam's face. "What's wrong, Sammy?" He- _it-_ smirked. "I sorta thought you'd be happier to see me."

Sam didn't say anything, just stared out the windshield.

"Don't say you're not happy to see me, Sam. I saw you, sulking around, being miserable. You're _incomplete _without me. I'm the better half of the Winchester brothers, and you know it."

"I want _Dean_, not some demon," Sam snapped scathingly. "I'm not sure what you're going to do, but I can take it. Just drop the façade. You aren't my brother, and you never will be."

"That hurts, Sammy. I could have killed you by now if I wanted to."

"So you've said," Sam growled. "But that doesn't mean anything. Ruby wanted me alive too, for a while."

The demon's hands clenched on the steering wheel. "What did that bitch do?" he asked, face contorting. "I knew she was evil. I tried to tell you, but did you listen? No."

No. _Dean_ had tried to warn him. Not...this. "It doesn't matter, does it? I killed her."

"Good for you. I need to refuel." The demon's eyes met Sam's in warning. "I don't want to hurt you, but if you try- anything- while I get gas, you will regret it. Understand?"

"I thought you didn't want to hurt me. Why does it matter?" Sam snapped, not letting the tiny flame of hope that had sprung up dissipate.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight. That's final."

-:-

While the demon refueled the car, Sam weighed his options. Either it really was Dean, or it was a really bad plan of some demon's. And, much as he wanted to believe the latter, he felt himself leaning towards the first option.

When the demon got back in the car, cracking its back and smiling, Sam swallowed hard. He would give it a chance. For now.

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><p>AN 2: _Next chapter, the action will really pick up. I'm excited for that. If you liked this chapter, would you be awesome and review? I know it takes some time and effort, so it makes me really happy because you took that time an effort and put it into telling me you liked my story...well, thanks for sticking with me! Have a great day, everyone. _

_-Jaq_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N:_ Hi, I'm back! And just in time for another chapter! This is the one that the action really starts to pick up, so that's exciting. Before we begin, I'd like to thank LeeMarieJack, VattaKeto, ellie reynolds 777, babyreaper, Leandra Falconwing, Jenna, and sammysmissingshoe for reviewing! I apologize so much for not being able to respond to them. Trust me, I want to. Unfortunately, I really don't have the time! So thanks for continuing to support me anyhow :)_

_enjoy!_

_-Jaq_

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><p>Sam sat in mostly silence until he felt nature's call. That, and maybe an idea. Swallowing, he spoke up. "I need to use the bathroom." To that, Demon-Dean-whatever smirked and replied that he had forgotten, and they made a quick pit-stop.<p>

Sam's cellphone was in his pocket, and he tried to make a call, but he was out of range. Cursing, he used the bathroom and exited, finding the demon leaning nonchalantly on the hood.

"Get out of that guy," Sam said angrily, not getting into the car. "I don't know who he is, but he doesn't deserve this."

The demon laughed. "He ain't here, Sammy. And he looks sorta like I did, doesn't he? Not quite as handsome, maybe. But you learn to appreciate the small stuff."

"What do you mean, 'he ain't here?'"

The demon's smile dropped, and he gave Sam a stare. "It doesn't matter. Get in the car. My terms still stand. Believe me, Sammy, there's a lot of demons who want you, and not in the good way."

Sam went along with it, deciding that he could find a way out later. So far, he wasn't being bodily harmed, and as long as that stood, he was willing to think that maybe this demon was Dean."

The rest of the car ride was silent. At about eleven o'clock PM, Dean (Sam had decided to call him Dean. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but…he wanted his brother back so damn much) pulled into a rather dinky old motel, but nothing worse than what Sam was accustomed to. Turning off the car, he looked at Sam.

"Look, I know you don't trust me. But you're just going to have to go with this, okay? If it makes you feel better, you can salt around your friggin' bed. I don't care. But I've got this obligation to protect you." There was that expression on his face again- like he was almost remembering something. "We were brothers. Are brothers. That means something. And there are a lot worse things out there than me."

Sam nodded tersely, and they entered the hotel. "Just one room, please," Dean said, shooting the manager a look that warned him not to argue. The manager nodded, and soon they were decked out in room two twenty four. Once inside, Sam immediately made a salt circle around the bed, much to the annoyance of Dean.

"Whatever floats your boat, dude," he said bitterly, contenting himself to sit in the chair and flick on the television.

Nothing was on except news, and in annoyance he glared at it and it turned to static. Sam's face tightened at that, and Dean turned to him. "Am I creeping you out with all this demon-stuff, Sammy? Huh?"

Sam turned away and set his duffel bag on the end of the bed.

The lights started flickering, and Dean smirked, his eyes flashing black. "Poor Sammy, his brother's gone and the only replacement is some half-ass demon who—"

"Shut the hell up!" Sam snapped, raising his voice and whirling to face Dean. "Just because I'm giving this a shot doesn't mean for an instant that I trust you. I'm drawing a devil's trap inside the door, and if you try and leave I'll know. So don't."

Dean raised his hands. "Hey, man, it's my job to protect you, right? Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

Sam nodded warily and, after drawing the promised devil's trap, he stripped off his outer shirts. Checking the salt line thoroughly, Sam crawled into the bed. Exhausted, he fell asleep almost immediately.

-:-

He was woken to the sound of a gun. Sitting bolt upright, he cursed himself. Stupid. Why had he trusted the demon again? Squinting, he could just make out…two figures?

"Great, Sam, you're up!" called Dean- or, the demon that was claiming to be Dean. "Remember how I said you were on Hell's most wanted? Well, they're showing up." He grunted. "You're lucky I heard about it too and got up here first."

Sam flipped on the light to see two men wrestling with assorted weapons inside the small devil's trap. It seemed to be holding, however, which was the main thing. Dean was fending off another man, and was gripping a gun just out of reach. There was a hole in the ceiling.

"Knew-" grunt, "that a gunshot would wake you- "_get out of here, Sam!_"

"What-"

"_There'll be more! Grab your damn bag and get out of here before they show up! The car keys are under the dresser, and the demon knife is in the glove box; I put it there a couple hours ago. Leave us, you hear me?_"

Sam didn't hesitate. Demon or not, this guy seemed to be on his side, for now, and he wasn't arguing with the man holding the evil thing intent on killing him at bay.

Once out the door, he started the car and drove. The demon-killing knife was, in fact, in the glove box, and Sam creased his brows.

Maybe it really was Dean. And Sam had just left him. But there was no time for that. Now, Sam just drove like hell.

-:-

It was almost daylight when Dean appeared inside the car, and Sam remembered offhandedly that, in his hurry, he hadn't redone the protection sigils. He supposed he was lucky Dean had been the one to pop in.

Dean was bruised and bloody, and his eyes were glittering black. "Drive," he said hoarsely. "Drive far away."

"How come no other demons just popped into the car?" Sam asked, pressing his foot down harder on the gas pedal.

Weakly, Dean pulled out a coin. "Tracking coin. Learnt it from one of the demons down there. Pretty useful."

Sam nodded and continued driving.

"So you've finally decided to believe me?"

Sam nodded again. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "I assumed that- just because you were a demon-"

"That I was evil? Not your brother? Nice going. But yeah. Take that exit and get on the interstate."

Sam frowned this time. "You got a place in particular? This is the opposite of what you drove last night."

"Well, last night I didn't realize just how close the rest of them were. Time to take a detour."

Sam drove, unquestioning.

Within a couple hours, they arrived at a small warehouse, which Dean produced a key for. Getting out of the car, they both entered. It was a storeroom- full of just about everything, from mattresses to machetes. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Resources. Hell's complicated. There's constantly wars between demons going on, and I sided with the right team at the right time. That's how I got out, and that's how I got access to this," Dean explained gesturing to the warehouse.

"But other demons can find it?"

"No. I killed everyone else on my side that got up. They were the only ones who knew about it."

Sam didn't say anything, just mused, looking around.

Suddenly, the demon raised a fist and whacked Sam in the head, knocking him out cold. Smiling, it shook its head, eyes flicking over to black.

"Oh, Sammy. You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

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><p>AN 2:_ Gotta love cliffhangers, right? Right? Now, I want to hear what you think of that...there's definitely something going on...so, please review! Reviews are nuggets of love to me. Honest. Thanks for reading, and have a great day! _

_-Jaq_

_song of the day: The One I Love by REM just because I woke up to it yesterday and it's been in my head ever since_.


	4. In Which The Title Is Mentioned

A/N: _And we're back! I'm glad to see the response that those last couple lines got...it's always awesome to hear from you guys! That said, merci beaucoup to VattaKeto, LeeMarieJack, Leandra Falconwing, Sarah, ellie reynolds 777, babyreaper, sammysmissingshoe, Jenna, and Soulless666 for your amazing reviews! You rock :)_

_enjoy!_

_-Jaq_

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><p>Sam woke with a groan and a pounding headache. He frowned, nor remembering anything past entering the warehouse with Dean...oh.<p>

Dean. The demon. Sam blinked, realizing that he was tied to a chair. Did wonders never cease?

There was a tapping sound, and Sam twisted his neck (damn, that hurt- Sam guessed he had concussion from the way the light bothered him) to see. Just inside his frame of vision was the demon.

Sam considered, not for the first time, how similar the man looked to Dean. They had the same muscular build, tall (but not as tall as Sam), blonde hair. This guy had black eyes, though. Dean's were green.

"You're awake. Took you long enough. Humans really are fragile, aren't you?"

Sam didn't respond, just glared. But concentrating gave him a headache, so he stopped. He still didn't give the satisfaction of response, though.

The demon spun his finger and the chair spun with it. Sam winced at the movement.

"Now Sam," the demon said, "we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"That's such a cliché," Sam said in a monotone. "And since when is it ever the easy way?"

"I genuinely don't want to hurt you. But I will." The demon frowned. "I...remember humanity. Sort of like a bad dream, you know? You remember the gist of it, but the details get away."

Sam's lips tightened. "If you ever were Dean, you aren't him now," he said stiffly.

"Well, if that's what makes you sleep at night. Me, I don't sleep. I stay up and think about dirty things." The demon smiled again, eyes turning dark and soulless. Sam refused to look away.

"Now, I know there was a plan. Something about Ruby, and breaking the seals. Any of this sounding familiar?"

Sam didn't say anything, but his mind was clicking together the pieces. Ruby had tried to kill him, but Sam had been too quick. Using her own blood against her, he had tried to get her to spill. She had rambled something about the plan failing, and the seals remaining, but that was about it. Then, Sam had extinguished her.

"The plan failed. Demon by the name of Crowley, he and his buddies made sure of it. See, if I'm a demon, their plan fails. But I need to know how much you know, Sam."

"I don't know anything."

"Liar, liar, Jess on fire-oh, wait." Dean smirked. "You already told me you killed Ruby. Why?"

"Because she was an evil, lying, manipulative bitch and I saw the error of my ways," Sam snapped.

"See, Ruby was an evil, lying, manipulative bitch back when I was human, but you wouldn't let me off her. So what changed your mind?"

Sam didn't answer, just sat, eyes staring slightly out of focus at the demon's shoes. He wanted Dean back.

"I'm waiting here."

"Screw you."

Dean laughed, his eyes black and cold. "Sam...you really do have some hope. I tortured souls for centuries before I got up here. You think I don't have it in me to give you a couple marks, too? Trust me, you'll be talking."

Sam knew the plan. After killing Ruby, he'd tracked down demons- created a name for himself, one to be feared. And finally, he knew the plan.

"Stoic type, eh? Yeah, you always were. Alrighty, down to the nitty-gritty..."

"Wait."

"What?"

Sam's voice sounded strangled and weak to his own ears. "You...you can't be Dean. The whole reason Dean went to Hell was for me."

"And your point is? I would have ended up there soon enough, anyhow."

"No. I don't think so."

"Wanna bet?" Dean walked over to a shelf, pulling off a wicked-looking knife. "I'm going to have to be careful. My first few tests died within the hour. I keep forgetting how easy it is to kill you humans."

"If Dean could have seen you, he wouldn't be able to live with himself."

"Good."

"Dammit, Dean! Please!" Sam begged, hating himself for doing it. He hadn't spent the last two years of his life for nothing.

"Last chance, little brother."

"You aren't my brother," Sam growled, trying desperately to feel that tug again. Maybe he could pull it off this time.

"I beg to differ. But enough with the smalltalk. Let's get down to business." Dean lifted the knife almost forlornly.

A sigh. "I'm sorry about this." Then, Dean plunged the tip of the knife into Sam's bicep, pulling-yanking- down irregularly. Sam moaned.

"Answer me!"

Sam's tears were for his dead brother when they fell. They were for Dean- the old Dean, the Dean he still had saved messages from when he was alive. This...new Dean wasn't even close to his brother.

"Don't be such a crybaby, Sammy. Come on."

Sam looked up at him, exhaustion rolling off him in waves. After two nearly-sleepless nights in a row, trekking across the country, discovering his demonized brother, and being betrayed by said brother- he really didn't give a crap. And he didn't have the anger anymore, just...fatigue.

"Would you kill me?" he asked listlessly, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

"Yes."

Sam smiled, eyes still closed. This wasn't Dean. Even if _it_ had been his brother, centuries ago, this wasn't Dean. Dean wouldn't kill Sam. In a way, it was relieving. No more confusion. Just another demon.

But the demon hesitated in drawing the knife back this time. "Just answer me."

"Kill me. You don't have any leverage left. My brother's dead, and torturing me isn't going to get you your information. Trust me."

"I'm..."

"No, you aren't. You aren't Dean. Stop pretending. The instant you became a demon, you stopped being Dean. So get over it."

Snapping his head up, the demon's mouth twisted into a sadistic smile. "I cared so much about you. Funny how that all goes away, isn't it? I don't feel remorse at all."

Slightly uncomfortable at this revelation, Sam fidgeted in his chair. "That's not a good thing," he ventured, looking at the demon earnestly. "You can't see the good in the world-"

The demon slapped Sam across the young man's face, hard enough to snap his head back. Sam moaned, the hit jarring his concussed head.

"I never saw the good in the world," the demon hissed, leaning in close. "Because there isn't any. There's things like me, and there's things like you. There're angels too- did you know that? You were right all along- but they don't care."

"There is- Dean was-"

Another slap. Harder, this time, and black spots swam in Sam's vision. He blinked them away, his head pounding.

"_Dean. Is. Dead._ So go ahead, try and fix me with your therapeudic talk. It won't work. You can't even fix yourself," the demon spat, grabbing Sam's jaw tight enough for it to hurt. "You can't fix anything."

He raised the knife again.

* * *

><p>AN 2: _(just finished editing this now, after seeing the Maze Runner. Personally, I think they did a great job staying pretty close to the book.)_

_Say 'I' if you like demon Dean. _

_review? You all rock. Have a fantastic week-end! Thanks for reading :)_

_-Jaq_


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: _Hello again! As a side note, just to clarify, Dean is indeed evil. At the core, he's evil. Thanks to a couple of you for pointing out that, in the last chapter, I didn't do a great job of clarifying that. I made a couple changes, and I think it's quite clear now :)_

_Thanks to Leandra Falconwing, LeeMarieJack, angellec, VattaKeto, Jenna, LittleSilence, sarah, and sammysmissingshoe for reviewing! You guys are amazing; thanks so much for taking the time and effort to tell me what you thought. And now, onto the actual part...a bit of a revelation at the end about Sam and Ruby...hope you enjoy!_

_-Jaq_

* * *

><p>Sam clenched his muscles, biting back a cry. Dean smiled, his eyes completely black. Smirking, he gave the knife a shake and watched as flecks of blood flew off of it. At this, Sam flinched slightly, but steeled himself quickly. Flinching didn't do anything.<p>

"So, Sammy. It's been...just under an hour. You ready to tell me what happened with little Ruby and your special relationship while I was gone? In fact, I'm pretty sure you know what the plan was." A dark look flashed on the demon's face, and he gave Sam a smile. "It was all very quiet. Not many knew exactly what it was, and I'd hedge a bet that you took care of everyone that did, right? No loose ends, just like Dad taught us."

Sam didn't reply.

"I keep my word, Sam. I _will_ let you go if you tell me. If I didn't keep my word, then I wouldn't be able to threaten. Rule one. Always make surethat they know that if they start talking, you'll stop. Of course, if they stop talking, you'll start again," he said, gesturing with the knife. "But, I keep my word. You tell me everything I want to know, you walk free. Or, I bleed you out slowly, painfully, and get the information anyway."

Sam still didn't reply, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.

"Option two, then? Good. That one's my favorite." Dean smiled, his teeth glinting white in the half-light. "It's kind of amazing, how people can sustain pain, isn't it?"

He dug the point of the knife into the outside of Sam's shoulder, cutting deeply and pulling it down to join the other cuts. Sam cried aloud, but quickly cut off the noise. Dean smirked.

"You can't imagine how awesome this is, Sammy," Dean informed the young man. "I was trapped down there for more than two hundred years. Finally, I get back up, and right away I get to have some fun. It's nice."

Dean flipped the knife into the air, catching it easily. He moved closer to Sam, curling around behind him. Sam strained to see him, but Dean remained directly behind him. Dean choked up on the grip of his knife, holding it by the blade.

"Hold still," the demon said, grabbing Sam's neck. Tensing, Sam jerked to the side, disregarding the demon's comment. Dean tsked, holding Sam's jaw with superhuman strength. This didn't stop Sam from struggling, but he couldn't get anywhere.

Almost lovingly Dean ran the blade up Sam's collarbone, eliciting a grunt of pain. A thin red line appeared trailing the blade, and blood ran thinly down Sam's shirt.

Dean moved closer to the hollow of Sam's throat, his knife skirting around to the side.

"What was that artist guy who chopped off his ear?"

"Picasso," Sam grunted, his eyes closed.

"Ever the geek brother. Well, Sammy, you better start talking, or I'm gonna have to pull a Picasso on you. I mean, we both know it won't even be fatal." The knife snicked just above Sam's ear.

"Please," Sam said, hating the way his voice begged.

"Please? Come on. You know how to make it stop."

"What are you going to do with the information anyway?"

"Tell me and I'll tell you."

Sam grit his teeth. After all, it couldn't happen anymore anyway, right? If this really was Dean, then Ruby's plan wouldn't work. Right?

"It's too late," Sam said, smiling.

Dean immediately took the knife away. "What's too late?"

"The plan," Sam said cautiously. "You had to be human."

Dean smiled again, his black eyes glinting. "_I _did? Or _someone_? Keep talking."

"I don't know," Sam said. "All I know is that you had to be human for it to work."

"Alright, then. If that's all you know." Dean's tone was light, but the expression he wore was positively evil.

Sam swallowed.

"-then you won't mind me taking you for a quick spin, will you? Truth be told, this guy's wearing out. And with you, I don't have to worry about a missing body. Plus," Dean said, tearing open Sam's shirt, "other hunters trust you, don't they? For the most part. At least, I can get rid of Bobby and a few others."

Sam struggled wildly, eyes widening. "No, wait. I- what else do you want to know?"

"So you _do_ know more?"

Sam nodded, tensing. "What about you?"

"It doesn't matter. Now, talk."

Sam hesitated, and Dean sliced into the top part of his ear. Sam let out a small yelp, cursing himself for crying aloud. "It was about a year ago...

-:-

_One year ago_

_Sam concentrated, feeling with his mind. It was strange at first, to feel without touching, but now it came naturally. The demon in the trap writhed, but Sam easily pulled it out of the young woman. _

_Ruby nodded, seeming distracted. "Leave the rest until I get back," she said, referring to the other few demons they had in a trap. "I'll be back in a second."_

_Nodding, Sam smiled triumphantly. He didn't need the demons to be in devil's traps- it wasn't hard for him to simply yank them out in a second, but Ruby wanted to try something else. And of course, Sam followed Ruby. _

_After Dean had died, they'd gone everywhere, tracking down demons. She'd told him how to put demons back in the Pit, and she seemed convinced that if he just drank enough, with the right spell they could pull someone back out. Someone like Dean._

_Sam wasn't an idiot. He knew it was a long shot. But any shot was worth it, right? So they trekked across the country, digging through black magic books and spells so old that even Ruby'd never heard of them._

_They found stuff, sure, but all for pulling demons out. Nothing for humans being tortured. _

_Still, they redoubled their efforts, and Ruby said that she'd found a new lead. _

_Sam lounged against the wall, wondering what the demon was doing. He could sneak up on demons- if he concentrated hard enough, they couldn't detect him. Using that skill now, he stuck to the shadows and followed Ruby's essence. _

_She was two rooms down, kneeling. Sam couldn't make out a lot, but he heard what he needed to._

"So the plan's off?" _Ruby asked, sounding surprised. _"What do you want me to do, kill him?_" __  
><em>

_There was a murmuring response that Sam couldn't hear, and then, "_It'll be hard. He's gotten pretty powerful._"_

_With a step, Sam strode into the room. He curled his fingers into a fist, holding it out and trapping Ruby inside her meatsuit. "Kill whom?"_

_"Sam-"_

_"I've heard enough." Sam clenched his fist harder, and Ruby let out a cry, wincing. _

_"Please-Sam-"  
><em>

_"Kill _whom_?"_

_"Go back, I think I found a spell to find your brother-"_

_"Did you?" Sam snarled, beginning to see red. "Or have you been polishing me, using my powers for your own ends? It's been over a year and we're still no closer to finding Dean, much less dragging him back out. You two never got along. Why would you even want him back?"_

_"I want it for _you_, Sam!" Ruby insisted, pleading. "Come on. You know that we've been doing nothing but trying to find your brother!"_

_"Then who were you talking to?"_

_Ruby didn't answer, and Sam, enraged, flung out his hand. Ruby's black essence poured out of her body, falling to the floor. As she died, she gave one last cry, and Sam stared darkly. Never again, he promised himself, would he trust a demon. Never. _

* * *

><p>AN 2: _Well, that was...different. Just a touch of plot, I'm afraid, but there was a lot of Sam whump, so that should make a couple of you happy. Next chapter: we find out if Dean keeps his promise or not! _

_If you enjoyed this, mind dropping a review? I know you tire of authors saying this, but...they really are awesome. Thanks so much for reading. Have a good day/night, wherever it is where you live._

_-Jaq_

_Song of the day: uh...let's go with Heroin by Velvet Underground (if you haven't heard of them, I recommend them. They started in the 1960's and revolutionized and started the whole classic rock and punk rock music genres by themselves, pretty much). The drums in that song make me happy. So yeah. After you review, you should go listen to it. _


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: _I love you all. Thanks for all the follows and favorites, and thanks so much to VattaKeto, Leandra Falconwing, ellie reynolds 777, sarah, sammysmissingshoe, Jenna, and Sharllissa for reviewing! I'm glad that you guys are liking this so far. I must admit, I think I still have a couple plot twists left that should give you guys a surprise...I do have a finish for this, but the little details are constantly changing. Thanks so much for sticking with me, even though this update is a little late! That said, I do have a legitimate excuse, being that I'm an idiot and accidentally deleted not only this chapter, but the entire plot outline/draft thing. Much angst was caused when I did that. MUCH. ANGST. I'm stupid, really. But enough of my lamenting. Onto the good part!_

_-Jaq_

* * *

><p>"Alright, Sammy, you can stop," Dean said, cutting off Sam's monologue and absentmindedly twirling his knife.<p>

Sam stopped talking, swallowing. "Are you...you're gonna let me out now, right?" he said, his voice raspy from talking so much. He sounded defeated, even to himself, and barely any hope tainted his words.

"All in good time, all in good time," Dean said, smirking. "First, we get to the fun part."

Sam's face paled. "What do you mean?" he asked, anxiety growing. Anything the demon referred to as 'fun' definitely was not going to be enjoyable.

Dean smirked, leaning in close. His black eyes glittered, and his teeth flashed. "It's about time for the endgame."

Sam shook his head, swallowing. "You can't. You can't break the seals, not now. It's too late. You lost," he said, the words spilling out faster and faster. A thousand thoughts raced through his head, none of them good.

Dean just chuckled. "Believe me, Sammy, I have no interest in seeing Lucifer wear your meatusuit. No, that's not quite what I have in mind."

The demon walked around behind Sam, and Sam craned his neck, trying to see what Dean was doing. However, the demon's back was to him, and he couldn't see anything that was going on.

A second later, Dean returned, holding a fat, empty syringe. The demon walked over to Sam, still smiling. Sam struggled futilely again, eyes widening as Dean gripped his arm. With a painful grip, the demon made a tourniquet out of his hand, cutting off the bloodflow until Sam's veins bulged. Then, Dean stuck the needle in, waiting for it to fill. When it did, he pulled it out, not bothering to plug the bleeding. It ran down Sam's arm for a couple seconds before clotting, and it itched a little.

Dean didn't care, just stood, inspecting the blood. Holding the thick red liquid up to the light, he smiled dangerously. Then, he got to work. Kneeling down, he began to slowly depress the plunger, allowing the blood to slowly drip out. He painted a circle, and then a star within, almost like a devil's trap.

It looked like Dean was drawing some sort of sigil around Sam, but it wasn't one that the younger Winchester had ever seen before. Seeing Sam's curious glance, Dean spoke.

"It's a holding sigil, sort of a modified devil's trap. I learned it in the Pit. Usually, it's used for demons, to contain power, but...it'll work for you, too."

Dean worked for a few more minutes, making intricate patterns with the small supply of blood. Halfway through, he drew some more, but then got back to it. As he finished, Dean stood up. Facing Sam, he rolled up one sleeve and smiled. Then, he slipped the needle into his own vein, watching as it filled with blood.

"Guess what's next, Sammy," he said, withdrawing the needle and examining the syringe's contents.

Sam clenched his jaw, muscles set. "_Please_, Dean," he begged, calling the demon by his brother's name for the first time. "_Please_." _Don't do this,_ he added silently. _Anything. Anything but this. _

"Begging won't help, Sammy. This is my endgame," Dean snarled. "I don't want an apocalypse. I know exactly what I want, and it's my Sammy back with me, fighting together."

"Stop calling me that," Sam growled, watching in growing fear as Dean advanced. "I'd never—you're insane. I'd die first."

Sam was hoping for a rebuff, but the demon just smirked, grabbing Sam by his hair and yanking his head back, exposing his neck.

Sam tried to struggle, but the demon's grip was firm, and he couldn't do anything to stop Dean.

The needle pricked his neck, and then Dean depressed the plunger, injecting the blood into Sam. Sam screamed, if only for the sake of screaming.

Demon blood was like alcohol- its effects begin immediately. As soon as Dean injected the blood, Sam felt the warm, tingling sensation begin to crawl throughout his body. The feeling of _power_.

Immediately, he tried to grab hold of the demon with his mind, but Dean laughed. And Sam couldn't do it. He was powerless, and his eyes widened.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Dean said nonchalantly, wiping the needle and sticking it into his arm again. "You know, it'd be easier if you'd just drink this, but somehow I get the feeling you wouldn't do that. Stubborn and all that."

Sam set his jaw, but the craving had already begun. As soon as the syringe filled with Dean's blood a second time, his mouth began watering. And he hated it. With all his being, he hated it. _Damn_ him for being such a hopeless addict! _Damn_ Ruby, and damn Dean, too. Damn the whole world.

He could feel it making him angrier, heightening his perception and bolstering his stamina. The torture he had already endured still hurt, but not as badly. Now, he had something other than pain to focus on. His concussion faded, and the black spots that had been gracing the corner of his vison for an hour finally left, replaced by crystal-clear clarity of his brother inserting the needle back into his own arm.

In came another syringe.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam shot, glaring at the demon.

Dean just laughed, a dark sound that sent chills racing down Sam's spine. "Like I said, endgame." His face became deadly serious, and he stared at Sam. "Long live Sam Winchester, the boy king."

* * *

><p>AN: _So, how do we feel about evil Sam? _

_Thanks so much for reading. If you don't mind, how about a review? Have a great day, everyone._

_-Jaq_

_Song of the Day (because I have too many music recommendations and this is too much fun): let's go with...um...I'll go with two. 1) Fight Fire With Fire by Metallica, because they played it at my game and my team won (plus, it's not a bad song), and 2) Ballad of Mona Lisa by Panic! At the Disco because it's stuck in my head right now. After you review, you should maybe listen to those songs. _


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: _Hello again! I apologize for the late update- I've been in the hospital. I won't bore you with the details, but if you PM or review wanting to know, I'll tell you. Thanks so much to VattaKeto, Leandra Falconwing, sammysmissingshoe, Jenna, Sharllissa, and Soulless666 for reviewing! You are all awesome. I know that this story isn't as popular as most of mine, but it's still so fun to write and I appreciate every one of you...anyway, enough of that. Here's the story! Enjoy :)_

_-Jaq_

* * *

><p>"What was it that you said?" Dean injected the...hell, Sam had lost count by now. Somewhere in the thirties. He winced, but only out of habit. It didn't hurt anymore, was just numb.<p>

"Back when you left us for college. You either die the hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain? That, Sammy, is an overused quote. And I don't like it. Because you know what I think?" He waited, watching as Sam panted, the blood making him sweat.

"I think that it's wrong. That everyone becomes a villain, in the end. The world's going to hell, Sam. So come with me. We could rule, you know. Something like that. You were always meant to rule."

Sam groaned, resisting the poison. A part- a big part- was rallying at Dean's words, encouraging, telling him to go with it. But a bigger part was still saying no.

"That's...that's not true," he gasped, feeling the strange, feverish exhilaration rush through him yet again.

"Not true? Look at me. I died for you. You did this. And now? I'm pretty friggin far from a hero now, Sam." Dean smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

And Sam knew that Dean would kill him if he didn't at least feign the role. If he didn't pretend. He was just worried that pretending would lead to it actually happening.

But it wouldn't happen anytime soon.

"You shouldn't have," he said, wondering why he was even bothering to argue. "You should have let me die."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to think you're right."

And that hurt. It shouldn't have, since this wasn't Dean, not anymore, but...it did. It hurt like hell. And Dean knew it.

"Ok," was all Sam said, though, sitting in silence.

The next few hours were a blur. It was all starting to drift together like a hazy, chemical-induced dream, the blood and the sweat and then more blood.

When it finally ended, Sam didn't even bother to ask how much blood. Dean, before him, was deathly pale, and Sam knew that if he was human, he'd be dead from blood loss.

And he liked it. He loved it. The power, the feeling...it was amazing.

But he'd beat it before. He could do it again.

"I think you're good, Sammy," Dean said at last, smiling at his efforts. "Just one more thing."

He reached for a knife, and with deft turns made a mark on Sam's left forearm. He whispered a few words that Sam didn't recognize, and made one final nick.

"Like I said, there's a sigil for everything. I'm not letting you go able to kill me in a second, no way." Kneeling, he used the knife to scratch away the thin line of blood around Sam's chair. Then, he cut the ropes, and stood back.

Sam stood up slowly, his muscles cramping from their forced immobility.

He almost stumbled on the first step, but then he was fine.

Dean smirked, sauntering back to the car. As an afterthought, he turned back to Sam. "If you get blood on the upholstery, I'll skin you alive."

The sad part was, Sam didn't think he was joking. Carefully, he donned his jacket, wincing slightly. The demon blood did a good job of masking the pain, but it wasn't completely gone.

Sam wondered why Dean was letting him go. Promise (like that even mattered) aside, there was no reason to.

How could Dean be so sure that Sam would turn evil? Because he had seemed pretty sure. And Sam was pretty unsure.

He wouldn't become who Ruby had made him. He had vowed not to.

He was stronger, now. He hoped.

Still, Sam followed his brother into the car, sitting stiffly as Dean cranked up the music.

"One of the things I missed, down there," Dean said casually, as if he was referring to a basement and not hell, "was good music. No good music down there. I mean, sure, there's screams. And damn, that sounds good. But you can't get radio service."

Sam just nodded, miserably wishing he was dead. Or that Dean was...well, he didn't know.

"Where are we going?" He asked tightly.

"We're going to meet a friend of mine. He'll like you. Don't kill him, okay?"

Sam silently promised to kill whomever- or whatever- it was as soon as possible.

When they turned into the grounds of an enormous mansion, Sam swallowed. Why was he letting this happen? Couldn't he _do_ something?

Suddenly, he was angry. So, so..._angry._ _Damn_ Dean! The stupid bastard- for going to hell in the first place, and for every damn moment after. For thinking that Sam would break that easy- and for the blood, the _goddamn demon blood_-

Red clouded his vision and Sam glared at his brother, all traces of fear and nerves long behind him. A shockwave, almost tangible, rippled outward, and Dean gave a surprised jerk of the wheel. Turning to Sam, he smiled.

"That's good. Keep fueling the fire. Think of what we can do, Sammy! The Winchester brothers. Nobody can stop us," he said, a sadistic grin marring his face. "Think of the _blood_."

The word made Sam angrier. _Blood_. Sam didn't notice as the gate opened by itself, or as the Dean pulled into a wide, expensive-looking driveway. In fact, it wasn't until he felt the engine stop humming beneath him that he was shaken out of his own head.

"We're here."

Sam exited the car, rage still ebbing away. Where had it come from? (he knew, of course. But it was easier to be scared and confused than to look at the truth)

Dean opened the door, striding confidently in. Sam followed, unsure what he was supposed to do. Although taking out demons was pretty high on the list. He followed Dean into a doorway.

A middle-aged man in a black suit stood in the room, holding a glass of amber liquid and looking unpleasantly surprised. Upon seeing Dean and Sam, he sighed. "I figured I'd be seeing you two soon," he said, surprising Sam with an English accent. "Dean Winchester, new and improved, and the...other." He turned to Sam. "You're a...well, a special kid, to put it nicely. Right?"

Sam tried to exorcise the demon (because what else could it be? If Dean was meeting it, there wasn't another option), concentrating, but the man just tutted.

"Your powers can't be used under this roof, darling. Although I do appreciate the effort."

Swallowing, Sam felt the anger begin to build up again. It was like the blood was slowly turning a switch in his head- and he didn't like what it was doing.

But he had beaten it before, and hell if he wasn't going to beat it again.

"But I haven't introduced myself," the man said, placing the glass on a table. Sticking out his hand, he allowed his eyes to flick to red for the merest of a second. "Crowley. _Enchanté."_

* * *

><p>AN: _Please excuse my awesome headcanon that Crowley speaks French to annoy people. It won't pop up much, I promise. So...how was that chapter? Again, I apologize for the lateness of the update and the possible choppiness compared to the rest of the fic. Trust me, the ER sucks. (again, avoiding a long, obnoxious rant. Sorry.)_

_Anyway, if you enjoyed, mind dropping a review? It'll make me feel better and update sooner...just a couple chapters left, guys! And Supernatural comes back on Tuesday...I'm excited! Have a fantastic day, you guys. _

_-Jaq_


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: _Thank you so much for all the kind comments! I'm feeling a lot better now :) _

_Thanks to sammysmissingshoe, Leandra Falconwing, Sharllissa, VattaKeto, Little13Silence, Jenna, and Soulless666 for reviewing! I'm thrilled that you're all enjoying this. _

_-Jaq_

* * *

><p>Sam took a deep breath, slowly mastering his anger.<p>

"Go to hell," he replied, giving his best glare. It might not be much when he was in Crowley's mansion, but as soon as he left, you can bet that was the first thing he planned on doing.

"Sorry, moose. Been there, done that...not really my idea of a good time." Crowley picked up his glass again. "However, enough about me...let's talk about _you_. Lot of talk about you, you know."

Sam didn't reply, just stared down the shorter man. Crowley was not intimidated, and seemed unfazed by Sam's height.

"You can help us, Sam," Crowley confided. "Stop all those pesky angels, demons...everyone hellbent on starting the Apocalypse." He paused, letting that sink in.

"It's already averted. You lost," Sam spat, trying to keep calm. Crowley was infuriating he was just _standing_ there, and Sam wanted more than anything to punch him in the face. Hard. Truth be told, it was a little frightening. It wasn't manageable anymore- it was barely controllable.

"See, Sam," Crowley said patiently, "it isn't. I won't bore you with the details, but they have many ways of making sure it happens, even now. And trust me, I want none of that. I'm on my own side- and you can be too, if you like."

Sam punched Crowley in the face, snapping for just a second. The demon dropped his drink, the glass shattering and the amber liquid spilling all over Crowley's shoes. Sam grabbed his lapels, hitting him again.

"I'm- _never_ going to be on your side," he grunted, rage blurring his vision."

It was almost half a minute before he realized that Crowley was laughing. "Dean," the man wheezed, "this is- perfect. The army will _love_ this."

Sam paused his assault, breathing heavily and turning to his brother, who had an eyebrow raised.

"Nice, Sammy," Dean commented, sounding genuinely impressed. "You're unstoppable."

Sam quickly stepped back, staring at his scraped hands in horror. What had he _done_? He was- he had just _snapped_, and rage had blinded him, and this was what they _wanted-_

Sam's gaze darted wildly around the room, his breath hitching slightly.

Dean's smile grew. Striding over, he clapped Sam on the back, causing the young man to flinch slightly. "More of that, Sammy, and you're good to go."

No. No, this was all wrong...

And Sam knew what he had to do.

Swallowing, he tensed. As Crowley stood up and brushed his suit, he swallowed again, his throat suddenly dry.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

"Don't be. Moose, Squirrel, and me, the King- we're unstoppable! Now, let's try that plus your mojo, hm? I've got a demon in the basement."

Sam followed dutifully, dread growing. If he had to do that again, he wasn't sure he could pull himself back. The lust for pain, the rage, it was so _strong_.

The basement was more of a torture chamber than a stereotypical basement. The walls were covered in assorted instruments- knives, whips, and Sam thought he even saw a pair of thumbscrews.

The demon in question was in the form of a girl in her twenties, with unkept black hair, and a lot of dried blood marring her face. When the trio entered, she laughed brokenly.

"So, Crowley. This is your big surprise, is it? The Winchester boy?" She sneered at Sam. "We were so close, Sam. Don't you recognize me?"

Sam frowned. A name popped into his head, and he clenched his jaw. "Meg?"

"I've been waiting for you, sweetie."

Sam felt the rage begin to build again. This was what they wanted. Just stop, just-

Sam kicked Meg, hard. She yelped. Dean and Crowley shared a look.

"You were meant for great things, Sam," Meg gasped through her newly broken nose. "Great things."

"Like killing you slowly?" Sam growled, his head throbbing slightly. Instinctively, he reached out with his mind, and to his surprise, he felt that he could. He supposed that Crowley's anti-mojo thing didn't work down here.

Sam grabbed Meg's soul, her twisted, black, grimy, twisted shred of a soul, and squeezed.

Meg's scream ripped shrilly through the air, and Sam ground his teeth. More. He pulled harder, and she screamed louder. She was evil, but this...

Sam _wanted _to. And even though he was acting, acting for Dean and Crowley, it didn't change the fact that a little part of him- _alright, a big part- the demon part_, he admitted- was enjoying it. The thought scared the hell out of him.

Breathing heavily, he pushed _out_ and Meg screamed again, this time worse than the others. With a snap and a burst of light, her meatsuit fell to the floor, lifeless.

All Sam could hear was the blood rushing in his ears for a few seconds. It was broken by a soft clapping noise.

Dean stepped out, his face in a gleeful smile. "Bravo, Sammy," he said, clapping again.

Sam swallowed, letting the blood tell him what to do. What _they_ wanted him to do. "More," he croaked, his voice cracking slightly.

"_Mais bien sûr_," Crowley replied, the sarcastic words dripping off of his tongue. "It'd be rude of me to deny you that, don't you think?"

Sam didn't know if he was supposed to nod or not, so he flicked his eyes to Dean. The demon was relaxed, but Sam still couldn't _feel_ him- whatever Dean had carved into his forearm was working. _Although_, he supposed, _if it were marred somehow..._

His thoughts were cut short by Crowley clapping his hands once. "Alright, let's go. I've got myself, my moose, and the Deanmon. We're ready, don't you think?"

Sam's forehead creased in a frown. "Ready for what?"

"Hell, of course. You didn't think that this was it? When I say _demon army_, think more like thousands, not three," Crowley said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We're going to Hell. Through my own private door. And you, Sam, are coming with."

* * *

><p>AN 2: J_ust a couple more chapters to go, I think... also...the hellatus ends tomorrow! Huzzah! It'll be exciting..._

_Anyway, if you enjoyed this chapter, mind dropping a review? I really appreciate them. Thanks for reading and have a great day/night!_

_-Jaq_

_Song of the Day: I'm...gonna go with...The Song Remains The Same by Led Zeppelin, just cos it's been stuck in my head today. _


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: _Well, this is the last chapter. I originally had this come later, but I felt like my story just took too many twists and turns to be actually interesting anymore, so...we end here. I'd like to thank everyone who has followed and favorited, and all my lovely reviewers. Thanks to VattaKeto, Sharllissa, sammysmissingshoe, Leandra Falconwing, Jenna, and Soulless666 for your reviews last chapter! You guys rock. _

_-Jaq_

* * *

><p>Hell was red.<p>

It was hot, and miserable, and it stank, but the thing that assaulted Sam's senses the most was the redness. It clashed, it _demanded_ to be seen. Red, everywhere.

There was blood. So, so much blood. Rivers of blood, literally. The lighting came from flames that licked up the walls and made Sam scrunch up his nose at the smell of burning sulfur.

All in all, it was Hell.

And even though Dean was a demon now, Sam knew that his brother-his real brother- had spent time down here. Centuries. And not like Sam was, watching the outermost layer, either. Dean would have been one of the screams that echoed down the hallway, the cries and the wails and-

Sam just shut it out, cutting it all off. It was too much. Turning to Crowey, he remained impassive.

The King of Hell smiled, and so did Dean.

"Lovely place, innit?" Crowley asked. "Wait until you see my office. Floor-to-ceiling windows in front of the best torture galleries in the place. And leather recliners, made with human skin. So comfortable."

Sam nodded, unsure what to do.

He had to keep up the act, but if he was too enthusiastic, he might be suspected. It was a balancing act, a delicate balance between giving up and pretending.

Following Crowley and Dean to Crowley's office, Sam saw more demons than he ever cared to. Worse was the fact that, when he passed, whispers would break out. Reaching out with his senses, Sam heard them.

"-the Boy King, Sam Winchester-" one hissed, its pungent breath drifting up Sam's nose.

"-and now we can rule-" said another, its tone hungry, lustful. Lusting after power that it thought _Sam _would give it.

"The Boy King-" came a low voice, and that was the worst of all. It was what Azazel had called him, years ago. It was what he was afraid of, his own worst enemy. And no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't outrun it.

"The King-" he heard again, and Sam felt the rage begin to grow.

_thekingthekingthekingtheking_ over and over and it scared Sam, badly. If he wasn't so damn _angry_ at them all, he might have run, just bolted then and there, but he didn't. He was supposed to be their king. He couldn't escape it, couldn't do anything, because it had been his frigging destiny since he was _six months old_, and maybe Sam was just never supposed to be the good guy.

But he already broke the world once, back at Devil's Gate, and Sam had no intention of shattering it again. Now, he had to try and put it back together. He had thought that he succeeded, when Ruby's plan failed, but now...there were all sorts of new opportunities for Sam to screw up.

And maybe, more opportunities to finally fix something. The demons were staring at him, and Sam could feel their fear. They knew he was more powerful than them. So he strode confidently, smiling as the black, twisted souls made way for him. Maybe...

Sam felt more powerful in hell than he had Topside. It just...flowed better. He could sense every demon down there, and he wanted to take them all on. _Let them come_, he thought irrationally, his anger fueling him. He didn't feel afraid, not anymore. Dean and Crowley might think that they had the upper hand, but Sam wasn't stupid. That was the first mistake that they had made. It was obvious Dean hadn't seen his brother in centuries; Sam's brother would never try and get Sam to give up so easily.

So he followed, waiting for the right moment. He could take them all, just explode, use his energy, just..._do_ it. He was invincible, and beware to anybody that got in his way.

But then they arrived at the office, and Sam was yanked out of his thoughts.

"Well, little brother? Ready to lead an army?"

Sam's head snapped up at Dean's words. "I..." he started, thinking. "I don't want to kill anyone." _  
><em>

But it was a lie, and he knew it, and Dean knew it. Sam wanted to kill. Lots of things, not necessarily people. Demons, monsters, people (but only the bad people, he told himself. Only them)...

With a cruel smile, Dean nodded slowly. "Wait until you do. The rush...it's like having a drink, Sammy. You can't just take one sip and be done, and before you know it you've finished the whole damn bottle." A gleam came into his eyes that Sam knew was pure demon. His brother was lost, he knew for certain. Dean wouldn't say that.

"You did excellent back there with...what did you call her? Meg. Excellent," Crowley stated, the same shine in his eyes. "Care to try again?" He picked up a curved knife, almost a small scimitar, and held it out to Sam.

_Yes,_ the blood sang, screaming out to Sam. _Take it, and kill them. Kill them all._

Sam accepted the knife without saying anything. Crowley nodded to Dean, and the demon exited, returning a few seconds later, dragging a young man.

Grunting, Dean threw the man at Sam's feet.

Sam felt the blood swirling in his brain, demanding to be used.

And he made his decision.

Bringing the blade down, he bit through his own skin, slicing through the sigil Dean had made. It didn't remove its power, but it temporarily weakened it, and Sam was stronger down here anyway.

Exerting all the force he had, Sam made a wall. Pushing, he watched as the demons sprang back, forced by Sam's power. Closing his eyes, Sam exploded,and a shockwave of pure energy slammed out. He went full-out, feeling powerful, _invincible_. And Sam ran.

He ran to the opening, and he knew his brother was behind him, but Dean wouldn't get out. Not this time.

"Keep running, Sammy!" Dean called. "Keep running! But one day, we'll catch you, and Sam?" Dean paused, a smile etching itself onto his face. "It won't be pretty."

Sam knew that. He believed it. But for now, he ran like hell.

* * *

><p>AN 2: _I know that sort of ended like a cliffhanger, but I really feel like it was the right place to end. Maybe I'll write a sequel later in time, if I feel like it. Anyway, thank you so much for reading this and sticking it out to the end. Have an awesome day. Also, if you don't mind, maybe a reveiw? Thanks!__  
><em>

_-Jaq_


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